Winter's Arrival
by VespertineFlora
Summary: Winter is a trying time of year for both the Phantomhive and Trancy households. Character history piece in two scenes, set around the time of ep. 8.
1. Ciel Phantomhive

Rated for implied sexual abuse of a minor (in the second chapter), which I suppose is unavoidable when writing about Alois's time in the Trancy Manor.

Otherwise, this is a fairly platonic piece with some inferred character history.

Won the Team Phancyhive Winter contest on deviantart. (.com/)

* * *

For the last two years, Sebastian had sat stoically through Ciel's solemn winter silences. The season brought with it snow and cold and the reminder of the terror that had plagued the boy so few years ago.

The first snow of the year was falling and Ciel was sitting in the bay window of his study when Sebastian entered the room to bring him his afternoon tea. His face was pressed to the surely cold glass pane and he was distantly watching the snowflakes dive from the sky and slowly accumulate on the mansion's front lawn. The boy either didn't notice Sebastian come in, which was likely as he seemed deep in thought, or didn't care—he hadn't looked away from the window, at least.

_"Ciel." _

_Vincent's voice was soft that evening. Ciel's tenth birthday was only a few days away, but it had seemed over the past few months, even to Ciel's young mind, that his father's moods had grown more sullen. Even when he was smiling, he looked weary. _

_The boy went from the window of the study, where he had been watching the snow falling outside, to his father's side at the sound of his name and Vincent pulled the small child into his lap._

_"I love you, Ciel," his father told him, embracing him._

_The tiny boy giggled and replied, "I know, papa."_

_"Good," Vincent said; he pulled out of the embrace, touched his son's face. There was a certain seriousness in the touch that concerned Ciel and he listened closely as his father continued, "Ciel… I know you are still young, but… There may come a time soon where you will be forced to grow up very quickly. You might have to stand up for yourself because your mother and I might not be able to help you. You might have to make some hard decisions that no child your age should have to. _

_"But I want you to know that your mother and I love you very dearly," Vincent said, kissing Ciel's forehead, "and no matter what happens, we will always love you. Do you understand?"_

_Still so young, Ciel couldn't fully understand what his father was telling him. How could he possibly? There was no way for him to know how true his father's words were to become. He had no idea that in just a few days, he would lose everything precious to him, his innocence included._

_So, doing what he thought he should to bring some trace of happiness back to his father's face, Ciel nodded enthusiastically and told the man, "Of course, papa!"_

When the tray of tea clinked lightly against the surface of the desk, Ciel's head snapped toward the demon (finally acknowledging his presence) before turning back towards the window. Though now the look on his face was decidedly forced, one of aloof disinterest.  
Sebastian couldn't help but think it was a look that suited his young master, one that normally had no need to be forced. It was a strict antithesis to the few portraits that had existed of Ciel as a small, happy child, though Sebastian felt all the boy's most attractive features were strangely highlighted when he frowned just so.

"I have prepared a Chinese Ying De Hong tea," Sebastian announced, but then continued with a slight grin, "It's a strong tea with a peppery hint and a sweet aftertaste, said to raise one's spirits. With the winter approaching, I thought it would be appropriate."  
Ciel shot Sebastian a quick, almost dirty look before training his gaze back out the window.

The butler acted as though he took no notice of it and calmly poured a cup of tea for the young master, preparing it to his liking before offering him the cup and saucer.

Without looking at him, Ciel took the tea, not bothering to drink it. He was still gazing intently out the window; Sebastian could practically see the gears in his head turning and he watched the boy with amusement, waiting for him to make the next move.

Finally, Ciel asked, "Have you discovered any new information?"

Sebastian needed no clarification. All the boy ever spoke of was getting revenge on the ones who had humiliated him. Surely, the coming season (and the reminder of pain that came with it) had only made Ciel's desire for revenge even fiercer. "Still no culprits have been identified, young master. I assume that whoever was responsible had the resources to cover their tracks."

The boy nodded solemnly with a maturity that should have been far beyond his young face. "Then continuing to wait is our only option."

"It would seem so," Sebastian replied with a light sigh.

A deep frown made its way onto the boy's lips. "I hate waiting."

Suddenly, the three other servants in the manor darted into view of the window, tripping and falling in the snow, laughing hysterically as they tossed snowballs at one another. As usual, they were making fools of themselves, though this time, the amount of fun they seemed to be having could be considered enviable.

Ciel only watched for a moment before he 'tch'ed and finally pulled his gaze away from the window. A distasteful look crossed his features and he muttered, "And I hate the winter."

Without looking back, Ciel climbed off the window's ledge and moved back to the chair behind the desk, setting the tea cup upon it. He leaned his chin against his hand, but Sebastian could tell the boy was only pretending to look drearily at his paperwork. In actuality, his dreariness was very much about anything else.

His mood didn't extend to his butler, however. Quite the contrary, Sebastian smiled to himself, out of view of his master, as he toyed with the image of a tiny Ciel giggling and playing in the snow with abandon, even if the image was surely wrong; he knew that Ciel had been a sickly child, so his hatred of cold weather probably delved deeper than Sebastian could fathom. Ciel had probably been forced to watch others playing in the snow from his bedroom window for years, his parents too terrified that he would catch his death to allow him to join them. And after years of such treatment every winter, his house was then set ablaze, his parents murdered, and he was enslaved. It was reasonable that Ciel would be tormented by the season.

Even if Sebastian couldn't help but muse that the colors of this season most complimented his master's fair skin and ludicrously blue eyes. Of course, he reasoned, that detail could be hardly more than a triviality to the boy.

Though Sebastian would typically be pouring Ciel a second cup of tea by now, he hadn't yet taken a sip—as if Sebastian's comment that it would "raise his spirits" had put him off. The butler shook his head a bit, approached the boy's side, and said, "You should drink your tea, young master."

"No," Ciel replied shortly. "I have no desire to have my spirits raised. Nor do I wish to take orders from a butler."

"Of course not, young master," Sebastian quipped and gave a small bow, in a mild attempt to mollify the boy. When Sebastian wanted or needed to get his way, he knew how to go about doing it. His years at Ciel's side had at least taught him that much. "It was merely a suggestion. The mansion is quite cold and the fireplaces are so dreadfully slow to warm it. The tea, at least, will provide young master with some internal warmth and hopefully prevent him from catching cold."

Ciel eyed the demon suspiciously, but Sebastian met his gaze with an intense, nearly innocent smile and eventually (as expected) Ciel faltered. He looked away from the demon, grimaced, and raised the teacup to his lips. He took a long swig, finishing half the cup in a manner decidedly inappropriate for drinking tea. Quickly, Ciel set the cup back down and threw the demon a purposely hard look. "Satisfied?"

"Never," Sebastian replied slyly, but then bowed and followed up, "but I suppose that's a start."

The boy was practically scowling at him—or he would be, if his lovely face were capable of such an ugly expression (or if Sebastian actually believed the emotion for a second). Sebastian couldn't feel anything other than a touch of amusement.

"Don't you have some other duties you should be attending to?"Ciel admonished, obviously seeking to remove the butler from his study as quickly as possible.

"I do," Sebastian said.

Ciel 'hmph'ed and looked back to his paperwork. "Then you are dismissed. Go make yourself useful."

Sebastian bowed once more. "Yes, my lord."

The butler could feel his master's eyes follow him to the door, but the gaze dropped when Sebastian had nearly closed the door. It gave Sebastian more than enough time to turn to the opening and see that his master's eyes had slipped shut and, for perhaps the first time in weeks, some level of peace had forced its way onto his face, easing the tension in his brow and softening the usually distinct line of the frown on his face.

A grin stretched over Sebastian's lips. He'd lied about the tea, but the power of suggestion was quite incredible.

The last thing Sebastian wanted—the last thing he could stand—was to watch Ciel trudge though another long, eventless winter with that hopelessly depressed look on his face. Not only did the demeanor fail to suit the boy at all, but the effect that such a deep depression had on the flavor of a soul was tragic. While it was rare that pain didn't ensure a more delicious soul, nothing but it left the soul with a rather bland taste. Just as with human delicacies, too much of any one spice would ruin the dish.

If Sebastian had his way, and he so often did, he would see that Ciel had as little time to squander in despair as possible.


	2. Alois Trancy

"Claaauuuuuuude!" the blond cried out from the yard. "Claude, come quickly!"

The demon frowned and followed his master's voice. Alois hadn't bothered to close the front doors and snow was drifting in uninvited over the threshold.

Claude stood in the doorway and watched as Alois spun and giggled, crunching his boots carelessly into the fresh few inches of snowfall on the drive.

"It's snowing! I love the snow!" He giggled again, then stuck out the contract-marked tongue to catch a few snowflakes on it.

Stepping outside, Claude closed the door behind him. The servants that still attended the current Earl Trancy would likely be displeased to find it in the state Alois had so carelessly left it in. Already, a slight puddle had been accumulating in the entrance hall, one that Claude would have to clean up later. He approached Alois, leaving a few footprints behind him in the snow. "Master, you are not dressed for this weather. I recommend we go inside at once."

Alois seemed to ignore him completely. He grabbed the butler's arm, trying to tug him out into the yard, but to no avail. "Come on, Claude. Come play with me!"

When Claude didn't budge, Alois released him and ran out to the yard alone. In one quick motion, he scooped a handful of snow out of the yard, smashed it into a ball, then turned and tossed it hard at Claude. The snowball smacked the unflinching butler directly in the face.

After wiping off his face and glasses and putting them back on his face, Claude impassively purged onward. "You'll end up catching pneumonia if you stay out here."

Alois's shoulders slumped and he pouted. "You're no fun at all."

Claude's face was expressionless.

Frowning deeply, Alois took a few steps towards the demon as he eyed him up, his arms akimbo. After watching the demon warily for a long moment, he barked out, "Claude! Make a snow angel! A perfect one!"

"Master, this is hardly the time—" but before Claude could finish, Alois stuck his tongue out at him, the contract mark glowing faintly, and

Claude knew debating the issue was useless. He let out a breath and replied faithfully, "Yes, your Highness."

Immediately, he fell backward into the snow. After waving him arms and legs back and forth stiffly, Claude picked his legs up and kicked himself up off the ground.

Alois immediately trotted towards him to examine the work he'd done, the vaguely angel shaped outline in the snow evenly shaped and flawless. After admiring it a moment, the blond said smugly, "Who'd have thought a demon could make such a beautiful angel."

Claude, up to par, didn't react in the slightest.

Alois frowned again, but just as he was about to order Claude to do something else ridiculous in an attempt to provoke some emotion out of him, he was overcome by a sudden sneeze.

The demon looked sternly at the boy, whose jacket was thoroughly damp and whose hair was sticking to his face. He was covered practically head to toe with powdery white snowflakes.

"Come. We should get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death," Claude instructed lightly.

The pout worked its way back onto Alois's lips and he folded his arms (though it looked more as if he was giving himself a hug), training the dismal gaze in his light blue eyes away from his butler. "Why should that matter? Who cares if I die?"

"Don't say that," Claude said strongly; his hands went for Alois's face and he forced the boy to look at him, to look at only him. The seriousness of his tone made sure that he would pay attention. "I am your loyal servant and you are my master. The decision of when you die is no longer yours to make.

"I can protect you from harm, master, but I am powerless against fighting a disease. So until our contract is filled, I cannot allow you to become ill or wither away." His thumb stroked the boy's cheek, as if to enforce what he was about to say. "I will serve you until I have devoured every last drop of your soul."

Alois stared back at the demon for a long moment, as if trying to actually swallow what he was being told, but eventually, he averted his gaze and replied in a low, defeated voice, "Let's just go inside."

The blonde turned away from him and moped back towards the mansion, his butler following dutifully behind. He didn't speak again until they were back in the boy's room and Claude had removed the damp jacket. There was a contemptuous look on his face as he asked,

"How goes everything with the geezer?"

"He should no longer concern us before the week is out, master," Claude told him, unbuttoning the near-equally damp vest and shirt. "It seems as though an unfortunate plague is passing through the area and it is unlikely the Earl will see it through."

A look spread over Alois's face, made of equal parts delight and sadism.

But before he could relish in the giddy feeling of triumph, there was a knock on the door. Claude went to intercept the visitor, as his master was currently half-undressed.

Alois could hear their conversation though, could hear the servant say, "Earl Trancy wishes for the boy's company before this evening's meal," and his blood ran ice cold. He didn't hear the rest of the discussion, neither Claude's attempts to argue against it, proposing the boy seemed to be catching cold, nor the servant's insistence that Alois had been neglecting the earl's needs and that his attendance would be absolutely mandatory.

When Claude returned to him a moment later, Alois sat still as a stone, staring blankly at the wall ahead of him.

"Would you like to hasten our plans, master?" Claude asked, clearly noting the boy's obvious distress.

Alois continued to sit numbly for a moment, still staring, until finally he shook his head ever so slightly. His voice cracked a bit as he spoke, "No, it's… fine. Our current plan is too great to mess up. I'll… I'll go."

Claude nodded and went about redressing the boy in dry clothing. It was only a few minutes later that a servant came back to escort Alois to the earl. The boy told Claude to be waiting for him when he returned and left with a neutral look on his face.

_The winter was hard, but then again, winters had always been hard. Even in the few years that Jim had still lived with his mother, what little he could remember was how difficult the winters had been. Food had been sparse and it had always been dreadfully cold._

_Jim could remember being happy though. Through his memories of freezing toes and growling stomachs, he could picture his mother's face, smiling down at him. She had loved him, he knew. She had taken him to play in the snow, building snowmen and making snow angels and tossing snowballs back and forth before taking him inside to warm up near the tiny fire. Sometimes, if he really concentrated, he could feel his mother's arms wrapped tightly around him to fend off the coldest nights._

_He'd never met his father. _

_It was just him and Luca now, and for the past three years, Jim had been responsible for finding refuge for the both of them. Luckily, they always found a barn where they could take shelter. At night, they would sneak in (it was rare that they were shown any kindness from members of the small town, who saw them only as the bastard sons of a village whore), and the two of them would find a blanket and bury themselves in the hay next to each other. Their only source of heat was each other and they held onto each other tightly to keep from freezing._

_Jim didn't want Luca to be sad. He did everything in his power to give the boy memories of being held by loving arms, of seeing the face of someone who loved him. Even if Jim didn't know if he deserved a life any better than this, he knew that Luca did, that Luca was precious and Jim sorely wished he could provide something more for his little brother than a bed of hay and scraps of bread._

_But he did all that could be expected of a ten year old boy. He found Luca whatever food he could and he stopped him from freezing to death on cold, cold nights. And he took Luca out to play in the snow, building snowmen and making snow angels and tossing snowballs back and forth, hoping to impress as many happy memories onto the boy's tragically short life as he possibly could._

Several hours later, Alois stumbled back into the room, clothes slightly disheveled, as if he had been redressed by someone unfamiliar with the task. Without looking at Claude, he crossed the room and collapsed on the bed. Soon he was tugging the once neatly made blankets around himself, creating an imperfect cocoon to hide inside.

All was quiet in the room for several long moments, Claude not acting until his master instructed him to do so.

Finally, Alois murmured into the pillow, "Come here, Claude."

Claude did as he was told, knowing that Alois wanted him to sit by his side on the bed and place a hand on his shoulder. The first time Alois had asked this of him, the action had been completely alien—what did demons know of a human's need for comfort?—but after many long months with Alois, he had gained an ability to anticipate the boy's emotional needs, even if he still didn't fully understand them.

As they usually did, Alois laid quietly under his butler's hand for a long while. Claude knew dinner was approaching, but it would hardly be uncommon for Alois to refuse the meal.

Eventually, Alois shifted within the cocoon, turning finally to face the demon. His face was painted with despair, there was a dark bruise on his neck, and his voice was unnaturally timid. "Claude?"

"Yes, master?" he replied.

"You are always to stay by my side. Don't ever leave me," Alois said softly, not looking up at his butler as he said it.

"Ever, master?" Claude replied with the arch of a thin eyebrow.

"Ever," Alois confirmed.

"You know that things change, master," Claude told him. His fingers moved in a way that had also become natural to him when it came to Alois, brushing delicately through the boy's hair. "Will you be asking the same of me when the time comes for me to devour your soul?"

Alois was quiet for a long moment, a somber look in his soft blue eyes. He didn't answer his butler, but his eyes did slip shut at some point; after a few moments more, he reached up to take Claude's hand into his own, holding it tightly. "Promise me you'll play with me in the snow tomorrow."

Claude gave a slight bow of his head and replied, "Yes, your Highness."

The boy let out a long breath after that and it almost seemed as though his whole body was deflating beneath the hastily gathered blankets. It was hardly long before his master was sound asleep. When the earl's servant came by sometime later to usher them down to dinner, Claude shooed her silently away, knowing his master needed the rest.

Playing in the snow, murder, a funeral, firing the current staff, getting rid of the earl's "toys," redecorating the hideous mansion… the boy and his butler had a long week ahead of them and Alois would need every moment of sleep he could get.


End file.
